The Day My Toys Came Alive
by AngelofMusikReturns
Summary: I think the title is pretty much self explanatory. UNDER CONSTRUCTION
1. The Day My Toys Came Alive

A/N I need a cheerful goofy no plot story to cheer me up after writing Hearing is Believing. This is just the thing! Except now I have to hide my POTO Barbie dolls... lol.  
  
THE DAY MY TOYS CAME ALIVE  
  
You laugh. I can tell. The title of my story isn't very imaginative. Yet I figured, this story was so unbelievable, imagination probably wasn't the best thing to add. The title is plain, simple, and the truth!  
  
Perhaps you have seen Toy Story 1& 2, or Toy Soldiers, or any other stories of toys coming to life behind people's backs and in front of them, too. Well, whoever came up with them, those people know.  
  
Even a child knows. You see them, sneaking up to their door, whispering for quiet in order to catch the toys rushing back into place. You laugh at them, too. Ha. If you only knew.  
  
Oh yes. My name is Kat, and I will tell you what happened to me and my toys. I am 17, completely sane, though a bit Phantom obsessed, and until that night, I thought toys to be inanimate creations for me to play with.  
  
Boy was I wrong... 


	2. The Awakening

I was sitting on my bed, just after dinner. Now, laugh if you will, but I still play with my toys. Not unusual, you say? That's why they are there, you say? Well, I just so happen to own Phantom Ken and Christine Barbie Dolls, from FAO Swartz, if you must know.  
  
Christine is the living...well, Barbie image of Sarah Brightman with long chestnut curls, snapping green eyes, and an intricate wedding dress on her perfect plastic figure.  
  
And Erik! To die for, as handsome as Kens get in an operatic suit with his lush cape draping elegantly over his shoulders. A black hard fedora, and to complete the outfit, a small white mask covers the deformity of his face. I peeked underneath it the first day I got it, they really made his face deformed. Bravo!  
  
But on with my story.  
  
You think any true phantom phan could own the complete cds of the musical, plus the actual two main characters in smaller form, and restrain the temptation to act it out with them?  
  
Of course not.  
  
My younger sister had Barbies galore; it was no trouble to find a Ken and a few other dolls, dressed in various costumes. I secured seats, a stage, and even some towel curtains for the opera house. An actual small bathroom mirror for the dressing room, and a Jet Ski boat for the lair. I even had a makeshift chandelier.  
  
The music turned on, I disappeared into my world of miniature phantom where Punjab Lassos were made out of mint rope dental floss.  
  
Several hours later, I laid all games aside and fell asleep on my bed. That's when the trouble began. All throughout my sleep, tiny whispers materialized inside my head. Upon awaking, I found a scene of horror. You think Toy Story was complicated, you just wait.  
  
Barbie dolls rushed around my room, screaming as the young males I had used for the managers were flying about in the boat, chasing after them. Skipper, whom I had been using for Meg, was actually on my dresser in front of my mirror, dancing on the smooth surface to music unmistakably from Masquerade.  
  
But the best was yet to come.  
  
Erik was standing on my book shelf, near the top, and his gaze was on the long rope of floss. At the other end, the more unfortunate end, I should say, hung the handsome Ken I was using for Raoul. Struggling, his face turned a strange color of orange. Christine, at the bottom, was shrieking and half-begging, half-threatening Erik.  
  
It was at this time of pandemonium I decided to wake. Of course.  
  
Now, when one wakes up to find an attack of Phantom Barbie Dolls occupying one's room, one's first urge is to throw oneself out the window in order to wake up. It is not, however, the most rational solution, though a situation such as mine was hardly deemed rational at all.  
  
Instead, I carefully lifted the floss lasso out of Erik's reach and placed the squirming Raoul on the floor. Christine ran to him and dragged him several inches before letting him take the confining noose off.  
  
Erik turned on me, and for the first time in my life, I felt afraid of a doll.  
  
"You!" He hissed in a very Michael Crawfordish voice.  
  
Suddenly I looked around and screamed. Dolls did not move!  
  
"SILENCE!" For a foot long doll, he made a lot of noise. I stumbled back onto my bed, pulled my blanket over my head, and shut my eyes, willing myself to wake up. Wrong move.  
  
"GET HER!" All the dolls suddenly leaped upon me with wires of dental floss and proceeded to tie me up. At least, they attempted to. The next five minutes consisted of my throwing dolls off my arms, head, and neck, and being ordered about by something over four feet shorter and a great deal thinner.  
  
Had I not been so rattled, it would have been laughable.  
  
Erik finally leaped off the book shelf, grabbed my metal nail file, and held it to my throat. I stopped moving. I wasn't sure what metal nail files could do in the hands of a mad Barbie, and I wasn't about to find out. Not if I could help it, anyways. 


	3. Honey, the Toys Shrunk Us!

Where was I? Oh yes. Erik with a metal nail file.  
  
Restraining the urge of grabbing him, I cautiously backed as far away as I could, then I stood up. It made me feel more powerful.  
  
Suddenly I heard someone knocking on my door. I ran to the edge of my stairs and hollered, "Be right there!"  
  
"Sorry about this!" I addressed the dolls as I grabbed them in handfuls and threw them into my closet. Tiny shrieks wafted threw the door as my mother walked up the stairs. Mind panicking, I turned my music on and flung myself onto my bed, breathing heavily. Trying to look innocent, I smiled nervously. "Oh, hi Mom."  
  
"Hi..." She paused a moment, then looked around the room as if she expected me to be hiding something from her. "Is everything ok?"  
  
"Yeah." A little voice screamed, "LIAR!" Forcing a laugh, I continued, "Just listening to Phantom."  
  
After staring at me a moment, she shrugged and left. I turned on my back and stared at the ceiling. Ok? Crazy alive Barbie dolls do NOT fit into the category.  
  
Getting up, I turned off my music and went to the door. With my hand on the knob, I reconsidered. Let loose wild plastic into the world? Dare I?  
  
What could they do to me if I left them in there? Sure, I would need a whole new set of clothing, and a good explanation as to why I couldn't open my door. But I could handle that.  
  
They were awfully quiet in there. Did Barbies die? Could they sufficate? In the hot, humid weather, even in the evening, my room blazed with heat and stuffiness. I tapped on the door. "Make some noise in there, will ya?" I called, feeling unbelievably foolish.  
  
Nothing.  
  
At first I thought, well, the worst they can do is melt.  
  
Oh my GOD! The window!  
  
I flung open the door, bracing myself. I was sure I would see an empty closet with a small window hanging open, shutter flapping in the breeze. You know how just before something happens, you see it in your head and you just KNOW that's what happened?  
  
Well, this isn't one of those times.  
  
Immediately I was knocked to the floor by Barbie Power.  
  
Struggling to get up, I banged my head against the desk. "Ouch! Damn you stupid bloody toys!"  
  
Gasps went around as I rubbed my aching head. Erik took this opportunity to fling his floss weapon around my neck. Suddenly the image of me, floss noose around my neck, with a tiny Erik trying to lift me up and kill me. I burst into laughter.  
  
Helplessly I sat there, giggling, tears streaming down my cheeks as the Barbies stared at each other. Raoul grabbed Christine and they slowly backed away as Erik glared at me.  
  
What were they going to do, FLOSS me to death?  
  
Wrongo.  
  
Erik stepped to the floor and picked up his plastic staff with the skull on it. Its tiny blue jeweled eyes gazed at me inanimately as I stood and continued to laugh.  
  
Blinking my eyes, I stopped laughing as the Barbies got bigger and bigger...  
  
Come to think of it so did my room.  
  
Before I knew it I was ten inches tall. My eyes widened as I realized what had just happened. Suddenly the floss looked ridiculously threatening.  
  
"What the-" I began.  
  
Erik took deliberate steps towards me. "Now..." 


	4. An Awkward Situation

"Now........."  
  
I gulped. What on earth was going on? Had I fallen asleep? No way was this possibly happening. "I'm dreaming. Dreaming," I repeated to myself. This doesn't happen in real life. Barbies dressed up as phantom figures don't walk around miniaturizing people for fun.  
  
Do they?  
  
What am I thinking??? Be reasonable, woman!  
  
Let me tell you, it's hard to reasonable when you are ten inches tall (or however tall Barbies were, maybe 8? I wasn't counting), surrounded by evil looking Mattel models and enveloped in a world of unreality. What can I say, I'm only human. And I did the most intelligible thing I could think of at the time.  
  
I screamed my bloody guts out.  
  
Needless to say, I wasn't thinking.  
  
Erik sprinted to me, and, grabbing one of my wrists with one hand, covered my mouth with the other in an attempt to muffle my screams. It didn't work; I have a fantastic set of lungs. Anyways, I expected him to be stiff and plasticish and cold. But dear Lord, the man (doll?) was flesh covered and as warm as.........well he was clammy. Not normal. In fact, he seemed completely human. I didn't waste time to think about whether he WAS human or if Barbies feel this way to each other. Good God did they turn me into a Barbie too if I can feel how they feel? I wasn't thinking rationally, wrapped in this mini Erik's arms.........Barbies running around madly with dental floss, working together for a common cause. Me.  
  
I stopped screaming. If my mother came up, I really don't know what would happen. I stared. They stared back. Erik cautiously moved his hand from my mouth as I stopped squirming, and there was a brief moment of silence. Then, Raoul and Christine moved a bit closer. The brunette came over to me, fear warring with curiousity in her eyes. She looked me up and down, obviously trying to decide who was better looking. She frowned a bit and backed away. I'm not sure who won. Raoul, the pathetic fop (even more so now that he was life sized.........or was I un-life sized? Ah I don't know) tried to act brave in front of Christine and strutted over to me in a curiously hesitant way. He reached his hand out, to slap me, to pat my cheek, no one ever found out, because I leaned out as far as Erik's strong grip let me and snapped at him. Squealing, he hopped out of harm's way, behind Christine.  
  
Erik let out a snort. "You know," he said in that gorgeous voice. "I do believe I'm going to like this girl.  
  
That was way too much for me to deal with. Plastic or no, Erik was in my room with his arms around me, and despite the fact I was more than 4 feet shorter than my normal height, and in possible danger, that was so so hott.  
  
I fainted then and there.  
  
Erik caught Kat. He stood with her awkwardly in his arms for a minute, then looked around. "Well," he said at last, "What are we going to do with her?"  
  
Christine wrinkled her nose. "Get rid of her."  
  
Meg, Mme. Giry and the ballet girls said, "Make her dance. And dance. Until she drops! Hahaha.........um."  
  
The managers and other random barbies looked indifferent. "Keep her, lose her, whatever."  
  
Raoul piped up, "Play with her!"  
  
Awkward silence.  
  
Crickets making cricket noises in background.  
  
"What" Raoul blushed. "That's what she was doing with us."  
  
Christine giggled.  
  
"Well, we don't have to decide now. But I can't stand here holding her." Erik shifted his weight as Christine glared at Kat with jealousy. "Get the rope, lets at least tie her so she can't run away."  
  
So there is Kat, tied up in dental floss-er-rope. Surrounded by dozens of dolls-er-people. Including the phantom himself. Well, as close at is gets to the real thing.........who's to say he's not? Wait now it's really getting confusing. And insane. And who knows what is going to happen next. Least of all, me. 


End file.
